Unedited, still in the super-rough-draft phase! 🤐 I climbed out of my kid-sized rental car to test the formidable iron gate, but left the engine running and the radio blasting. I wanted to make a good impression on the neighbors, you know, just in case the ripped jeans, sh*t-kicker boots and fitted Cherry Bomb tee weren’t enough to seal the deal. The gate was locked. Of course it was, because I may be able to shoot fire out of my hands and suck a bad guy dry, but remembering a pesky little thing like keys is beyond me. I kicked the gate, hard, and felt the bones of my foot snap in response. “***profanities redacted***,” I cursed and hobbled around like a three-legged goat. The pain peaked and ebbed while I waited for my bones to knitting back together. I didn’t have to wait long – by the time Freddy Mercury made it through the chorus of Bohemian Rhapsody, I was right as rain and feeling no pain. I stared up the mountain, to my modest little castle perched high on the hil...